63

PREFACE

_by G.N. Clark, Provost of Oriel College, Oxford_

Rather more than twenty years ago, on a spring morning of alternate
cloud and sunshine, I acted as guide to Johan Huizinga, the author of
this book, when he was on a visit to Oxford. As it was not his first
stay in the city, and he knew the principal buildings already, we looked
at some of the less famous. Even with a man who was well known all over
the world as a writer, I expected that these two or three hours would be
much like the others I had spent in the same capacity with other
visitors; but this proved to be a day to remember. He understood the
purposes of these ancient buildings, the intentions of their founders
and builders; but that was to be expected from an historian who had
written upon the history of universities and learning. What surprised
and delighted me was his seeing eye. He told me which of the decorative
_motifs_ on the Tower of the Four Orders were usual at the time when it
was built, and which were less common. At All Souls he pointed out the
seldom appreciated merits of Hawksmoor's twin towers. His eye was not
merely informed but sensitive. I remembered that I had heard of his
talent for drawing, and as we walked and talked I felt the influence of
a strong, quiet personality deep down in which an artist's
perceptiveness was fused with a determination to search for historical
truth.

Huizinga's great success and reputation came suddenly when he was over
forty. Until that time his powers were ripening, not so much slowly as
secretly. His friends knew that he was unique, but neither he nor they
foresaw what direction his studies would take. He was born in 1872 in
Groningen, the most northerly of the chief towns of the Netherlands, and
there he went to school and to the University. He studied Dutch history
and literature and also Oriental languages and mythology and sociology;
he was a good linguist and he steadily accumulated great learning, but
he was neither an infant prodigy nor a universal scholar. Science and
current affairs scarcely interested him, and until his maturity
imagination seemed to satisfy him more than research. Until he was over
thirty he was a schoolmaster at Haarlem, a teacher of history; but it
was still uncertain whether European or Oriental studies would claim him
in the end. For two or three years before giving up school-teaching he
lectured in the University of Amsterdam on Sanskrit, and it was al